


Light in the Darkness

by smolawkwardpotato



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Cleric!Reader, F/M, Fluff, Hickeys, Later Smut, Naked Female Clothed Male, Non-Consensual Bondage, Slightly non-canon, Slow Burn, Torture, Unsafe Sex, Vampires, cursed!Percy, first fic, light biting, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-03-20 02:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolawkwardpotato/pseuds/smolawkwardpotato
Summary: You meet Vox Machina in Whitestone, deciding to help them in their journey to reclaim the castle. You begin to have feelings for Percival, his darkness igniting something in your light.





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> This happens during the Whitestone segment of the first campaign, Vox Machina. Reader is a Cleric traveling with Vox Machina in Whitestone to help them save her people. Goes a bit off canon but will be as close as I can make it. More notes/tags will be added as I add chapters. Leave a comment and some kudos! Creative criticism is appreciated

     Percy stood over the body of Sir Kerrion, chest heaving. His eyes blurry, he felt the smoke and mist swirl around his legs and waist. He felt hot. He felt scalding as rage enveloped his body and his gunsmoke mixed with the black cloud seeping from him. Your chest clenches and you shake softly in confusion and fear. You take a few steps forward and reach out a shaky hand to touch his shoulder. As soon as you make contact, he whips around, grabbing your hand and slamming you into the wall, your hand pinned above you. You cough after the impact, shaking harder and looking up into his eyes. His eyes, you now realize, that are covered by the mask.

     “P-Percy?” You whisper, looking up at him with teary, frightened eyes. You look back at the group, their stunned eyes whipping between you and the dark form of Percy currently surrounding your body against the wall. You look back at him, your eyes pleading.

     “Percival?” You say softly. You feel his grip tighten for a moment before it goes slack, the mist receding until it only swirled around his ankles. You use your free hand to take his mask off gently, revealing his face covered in an emotion you aren’t expecting.

_Recognition._

_Rage._

_Anger._

_Blood._

_**Vengeance**. _

_Touch._

_Threat._

_Girl._

_Recognition._

     Shame.

     Shame and fear and disgust are bleeding from his face like smoke, tears staining his cheeks as he stumbled backwards.

     “N-no. I didn’t- I’m so-“ he stammered and staggered backwards, hitting the desk and falling to the ground as he curled in on himself. You rub your wrist and step forward, Keyleth breaking out of the shock and rushing up to you, putting her hands around your jaw and head, rubbing your barely-shed tears away and pulling you close.

     Vex’ahlia rushes forward, yelling at him as he stared at you, non-responsive with a look of horror on his face. You bit your lip, gripping your holy symbol of Pelor, kneeling next to Percy and placing your hand on his forehead. He gasped and started to hyperventilate, trying to shuffle away from you but trapped by the desk.

     You pressed forward, concentrating and praying to Pelor. Your hand started to glow, his smoke seemingly shrinking away from the divine light streaming from your symbol. His eyes seemed to shimmer with black before clearing, rolling back as he passed out onto the floor. You swayed on your knees, gripping the desk for balance as sweat rolls down your forehead. Looking down, your holy symbol has burned a brand into your unsteady hand

     “Are you ok? What’s wrong??” You hear a few voices mixing together as you feel exhaustion begin to overtake you.

     “Powerful curse.” You pant. “Too weak to break. Bad curse.” You lie down on the floor, panting as your vision darkens and you pass out from effort.

* * *

 


	2. Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up and immediately look for Percy after the aftermath of the battle for Lord Kerrion.

     You wake in the tavern’s basement, in the tunnel carved out by Keyleth. You feel a wet piece of cloth at your forehead and soft whispers as you open your eyes to Vex’ahlia murmuring above you. She gives you a tight smile as she brushes back hair from your brow.

     “How are you feeling, darling? Gave us quite a scare.”

     “Percy? Where is he?” You responded, reaching up to try rubbing mental fog from your head as you tried to sit up. Vex’s brow furrowed as she glanced down the tunnel before looking back at you.

     “Don’t worry. He’s…being dealt with.” She says. Raised voices and shuffling from deeper in the tunnel reach your ears. You push past her, ignoring her raised words and starting to make your way down. You push past Scanlan, who was fiddling with his Shawm as he looked up at your approach, scrambling up. You arrive at the end, a place seemingly surrounded by dead and dying tree roots to the scene of Percy being held up against the wall by Grog, his war hammer flaming and muscles twitching. Vax’ildan was yelling at Percy, dagger out as he gestured with it, rage in his eyes.

     “What the FUCK was that, Percival? That girl has barely begun to trust us and you pull this shit? And what the bloody hell was with that smoke? Start fucking talking, and I might even believe you!”  
Percy was sputtering, eyes blurry and unfocused as he held on to Grog’s forearm for support, wheezing.

     “I told you, I don’t remember, damn it! The smoke is new and it’s a long story, and I didn’t know-“ his stammering voice cut off as he saw you, his face growing pale and concerned. Vax turned sharply, pointing at Percy with his dagger. You could see now there were smears of poison on the blade, but his hand wasn’t as steady as it should have been.

     “Where’s Vex? Are you ok?” He stepped toward you, eyes concerned.

     “Let him go.” You looked at Percy, face hard.

     “We can’t. He’s danger-“

     “Let. Him. GO!” You flare, your symbol glowing faintly and eyes flashing. Grog looks from you to Vax, lowering Percy but keeping his hand tight on his hammer. You stride up to Percy while, breaking out of his trance and flinching away, he averts his eyes. You kneel in front of him and hear Vex and Scanlan arriving behind you followed by Keyleth. You put your hand on Percy’s shoulder and will him to look at you. He slowly drags his gaze up to yours, sighing as a cough bubbles up his throat.

     You take his hand and make him hold your holy symbol with you, murmuring and closing your eyes as you begin to radiate energy.  
Your mental gaze begins to fall into his, feeling as if you were tumbling into a shadowy hole, smoke filling your lungs. You panted, sweat beading at the effort as you grasped at the smoke, feeling it pulse and shift angrily. Pelor’s strength fills your heart as you blast pure light into his mind, his eyes shimmering as he sputters. The smoke begins to dissipate. Your lungs cleared. You open your eyes and sit back, Keyleth and Vex rushing towards you and holding you up as Grog pins Percy to the wall, Percy’s eyes still faintly glowing as he exhales, black smoke rising and leaving his body.

     “Darling? Can you hear me? What in gods’ name was that?” You hear Keyleth murmur.

     “He was being corrupted. This place… it’s cursed.” You cough and sat up, pulling your water-skin out and drinking deeply.

     “I can hold it, but there’s something deeper that is out of his or my control. Something hungry inside him.” You reached out to Percy, your hand on his ankle. He looks down at you with understanding and relief. He nodded frantically, desperate.

     “I need to tell you all my story.” He sighs after a moment, face growing paler.

     After a long talk, filled with anger and disbelief, Percy concludes his tale, collapsing against the wall in emotion, wiping sweat and a few tears from his face.

     You look at Percy long and hard, breathing slowly as you looked at his seeming truth, and you sigh, looking down.

     “I believe you.” You say softly, nodding. He closes his eyes and relaxes in relief, the others shifting uncomfortably, doubtful.

     “Why haven’t you said anything before, Percy?” Scanlan pipes up, unusually collected and solemn.

     “I- I wanted your trust… I needed your help. How do you broach such a topic without being kicked out on the street? I thought maybe… maybe if I proved myself it wouldn’t matter. Well… we see how that went.” He laughs bitterly.

     You stood, pulling Percy away from Grog by the arm and settling his gaze.

     “I trust you. I may not have known you for long, but, by Pelor, I will help you end this shadowed presence in your soul.”

     You looked back at the others, communicating with a stony gaze that if they didn’t agree, you’d leave and help him on your own. Scanlan sighs.

     “Well, we might as well help him. Can’t have Toothy McGee following us home, huh.” He says, shattering the tension that had gathered in the room, being answered by a few laughing grunts and shuffling. You turn back and smile at Percy, pulling him out of the dark root-filled tunnel towards the cellar.

     He follows, dumbstruck, shuffling behind you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters may be short, but I want to make sure they’re the quality I want them to be. Please drop a comment and some kudos and enjoy the story!


	3. Detection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You speak with Percy before sleeping, thinking about your possible feelings for him. You awake during the battle and afterwards, think a bit harder.

     You lead Percy into the cellar, climbing the ladder and pulling him up into the main floor. You went into one of the side rooms, presumably used for a more private drinking room, long abandoned and dusty, but quiet and closed off. You close the creaky door behind you, sitting down on the dirty floor, pulling your hair into a loose gathering at the back of your neck. You pull Percy down with you, his face still blank with an undercurrent of confusion, nervousness, and relief from the dark.

     “Why are we here?” He says slowly and softly, sitting away from you purposely.

     “I needed to get away from the others. I… I know they are your family, but I don’t trust them in your… condition.” You respond carefully, choosing your words. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and took out a small hunting knife from your belt, cutting off part of your leather armour and starting to carve.

     “What are you doing?” He said with confusion, watching your hands.

     “Giving you something that might help.” You whisper, concentrating before putting down your knife and muttering while the leather became warm, the symbol solidifying. You gave him the scrap, pressing it into his hand. “Pelor may not be the god you hold allegiance with, but may his strength and light guide you through this darkened time.” You smile and kissed his cheek, getting up and heading out before feeling a hand at your ankle. You look back, Percy still staring at the symbol in his hand as he grasped your ankle.

     “Percival?” You broach, cautious.

     “Thank you.” He whispers, shaking slightly as he let go of your ankle. You nod gently before leaving, looking back from the hall to see Percy holding his cheek, eyes closed. You blush softly, leaving him to his thoughts. As you get back to the cellar, Scanlan meets you with a hearty grin on his face.

     “Well, well, well, missy! You’ve done something not many have! Bedded the great Percival von yadda yadda yadda. How’d it go? Just the tip? Gone at it like Grog at a pint?” You grew beet red at his words, scoffing and sputtering.

     “We didn’t- I mean, I haven’t-“ he holds up his hand.

     “Just joking around, kid. I know you care about him almost as much as this shithole you call a town,” you glare and he smirks, “but just be careful. Even though we may be hesitant around him right now doesn’t mean that we won’t defend him with all we have.” He smiles, but you catch a sense of careful protective energy behind his giddy eyes. You nod, understanding, before heading down to the tunnel.

     You greet the others, meeting their cautious stares and concerned eyes with a bright smile, assuring them you’re fine and fussing over some of Grog’s wounds, minor as they may have been. He preens and tells (although exaggerated) great stories of how he got them. Percy sneaks in later, fiddling with one of his contraptions, stealing glances towards you once in a while.

     Grog’s deep gravelly voice gives everyone a much heartier feeling, gathered in that small tunnel. Even though it was cold and damp, everyone feels a bit more normal and warm as they listen to Grog and Scanlan interrupt each other to tell tales from both old and recent battles. You finish tending to everyone’s wounds, settling into an earthy corner. After a while, you’re lulled to sleep by the back and forth of conversation, breathing deeply in the underground passage.

     After a bit of sleep, you start becoming restless, your dreams turning dark and smokey. Suddenly you hear Vex’ahlia shouting something, followed by more shouting, hissing, and clanking of weapons. You shoot awake, scrambling to your feet as you reach for your staff, running up into the fray. Grog is struggling with one or two misty, fanged individuals, before he beats them back with the flaming hammer, pushing one inadvertently towards Percy, who is still waking up, grabbing his pepperbox. You shreak as you bash one away from Keyleth, who is still fitfully sleeping, mumbling about nightmares. Grog struggles to pull his hammer out of a wall that it’s been jammed into, Vex and Vax are shouting, and Scanlan begins… urinating? You scoff and avert your eyes best you can as he shoots off balls of arcane energy towards the enemy before you see Percy clutching his throat, blood seeping through his fingers.

     “No!” You scream, your eyes glowing with divine energy as you raise your hand, letting out a blast of sun and energy with a yell, insinerating the last misty being with a hissing scream. You pant and look around, watching everyones eyes on you, flicking towards Percy and back to you before collectively heaving a breath of relief, clapping you on the back and tending to wounds. You went up to Percy.

     “Are you ok? What were those?” You said, giving him a few goodberries and inspecting the wounds.

     “Vampires or something,” he chuckles, “misty and… unsavoury to say the least.” He nods towards you in thanks, fingers ghosting over the now-closed wounds. You smiled and blushed ever so slightly, going to check on the others, patting Trinket behind the ears. Vex’ahlia pulls you aside, further up the tunnel but only just out of earshot of the others.

     “Darling, are you alright?” She prods, brushing your hair back. You nod, smiling, and look up at her expectantly.

     “You seem… more concerned with us that you have been. Not that that’s a bad thing, but I want to make sure you aren’t being forced into this. You’re a brave young woman.” You flush and smile wider.

     “Thank you, Vex. It means a lot. I’m not being forced, I just,” you glanced back at the flickering light further down the tunnel, “feel it’s easier to help now. It’s easier to care.” You said, searching slightly for some of the words.

     She smirks ever so slightly, a knowing look flashing across her face before disappearing.

     “Just so you know,” she says after turning back, “you’d be good for him. He needs a little light in this darkness.” You stammer before falling silent, nodding and heading back with her. You could hear her telling the others the tunnel was clear, that she and you had checked it. You thank her silently before sitting back into your corner.

     You glance over at Percy fiddling with his pepperbox. Did you fancy him? He was extremely intelligent, strong, confident, and yet kind and vulnerable. Not to mention, he wasn’t bad to look at either. His hair, his face, his strong arms and hands, so capable and quick to react. You look back up at his face, watching him cough slightly and smirk as he got the action to click back into place. You smiled before seeing him pull out the holy symbol you made for him, clutching it softly. He pressed it to his chest and sighed, seemingly drawing comfort from its presence. _Or, maybe_ , your heart supplied, _thinking of you_. You flush deeper and close your eyes, laying back down, hearing a soft feminine chuckle to your right before falling asleep.


	4. Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin to suspect Percy feels something too, but things turn in a way you weren’t expecting.

     You wake the next morning, stiff but rested as you make your way around the small cavern, lighting a small smokeless fire and cooking a small breakfast for yourself. Vax’ildan is the next to wake, a bit groggy from taking watch, but alert nonetheless. He nods to you and starts to eat some of his own rations, watching you once and a while with a curious look.

     You try and ignore it. Flipping through your small spellbook, praying to Pelor, waiting for others to wake and break the heavy silence that settles over such caverns as this. Slowly, other members of the party begin to shift and murmur, rolling up bedrolls and packing up weapons. You pass out a few goodberries left over from Keyleth, wiping your hands and picking up your staff.

     “I’m going to check upstairs.” You say softly, nodding to Vex’ahlia and walking up the tunnel. As you leave, you can hear a faint chuckle and following footsteps. The cellar, thankfully, greets you emptily, same with the first and second floor as you walk through silently gripping the wood of your quarterstaff. Suddenly, you hear a noise as you patrol the top level. You whip around, knocking the person to the floor and pinning them with your stick.

     “Hi.” Percy pants, eyes surprised. You squeak and pull him up, brushing him off.

     “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you and I-“ he cuts you off with a kiss on the cheek.

     “It’s alright. I did sneak up on you.” He walks past, leaving you red as a beet and in shock, mouth gaping. Your mouth snaps shut and you make your way back downstairs. You meet up with the rest of the party, Grog giving you a knowing side-eyed smirk as you walked out. You don’t meet his gaze, but slap him quietly on the arm. The party separates, going to different tasks and spying. You head up to your temple, meeting with some of your fellow clerics and praying to Pelor.

     Afterwards, you walk down to one of the very few stalls still open, an old hag selling withered vegetables and stale bread. You give her a bit more than she asks for for some of the least sad produce, packing it in your bag and giving her one of Percy’s crest papers. She nods with a small smile and starts to pack away her cart.

     You meet up with a few of the others, learning of the people’s knowledge and willingness with relief. They told their plans and headed off again. As you head back to the old tavern, however, a woman comes up to you and grabs your arm.

     “I know who you’re working with. I know what you’re doing. Come with me or i’ll make this very unpleasant.” She whispered, the point of a blade sticking into your lower back as you slowly nodded and rubbed your ear, clearing your throat. You heard murmuring in the earpiece the party had given you, voices asking what the matter was.

     “You know, then, that it may not be a good idea to do this.” You say, still rubbing your ear, seemingly unnoticably. The murmurs stopped and started again, reassurances and planning meeting your ears.

     “I’ll take my chances, girl.” She cackled, leading you to one of the noble’s houses. As you cross the threshold, two large suits of armour flank her, guarding the door silently. You shuffle along with her, her old, haggard appearance shimmering into that of a younger woman, cold and sneering. She pushed you into a small cell, watching you fall on a pile of rotting hay.

     “Wait here. Not that you have a choice, I suppose.” She says snidely. You glare and spit at her as she starts to ready various instruments and muttering. After about an hour, you shake out of your daze to the sound of knocking on the bars.

     “Come here, girl. Put your weapon through the bars.” You huff and push your staff through the cell, throwing the shortsword so it stuck in the wall behind her. She smirks and looks you over, murmuring something as she pulls your hands toward her. She locks a pair of manacles around you, and immediately you’re filled with cold, almost searing in it’s frigidness. You pant and try to pull the manacles off, but can’t seem to find the strength. You feel sapped, empty and hollow.

     “Not nice to be ripped away from something, huh?” She interjects with a cruel grin, “It’s something i’ve been working on for a while. Sort of a toy.” She cackled, pulling you from the cell and throwing you on the floor before ripping out your earring. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your little trick back there, girl.” She kicks you in the side and you wheeze, feeling sapped of your usual vigor. You try to reach out to Pelor, but grasp at nothing but silence and cold where his usual warmth envelops you.

     You begin to cry.

* * *

      Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III for one of the first time in the last few years, felt in control of the smoke. He felt powerful, yes. Cruel, angry, vengeful, yes. But in control. He thought of the girl who had stumbled upon them and stepped up to the plate, saving their hides and trying to help them save her town.

     He heard crackling and a strange message in the earpiece, followed by grunting and an old woman’s voice, haggered and disguised, but one that could never hide from him.

     He thought of the girl.

     He thought of redemption.

     He started running.

* * *

     You wake from unconsciousness, blood drying on your chin as you cough, trying vainly to reach out for help. Another strike and a scream is ripped through your throat, your manacled hands clenching and pulling against the chains attached to the wall. The woman takes out a small blade and some other tools, opening the wound and carving out the flesh. You sob and screech, the pain unbearable as she pushed and pulled your flesh, writing things down on parchment and wiping her hands.

     “This should prove interesting, dear. Most others would still be fighting, but you broke right away. These manacles really are a treat aren’t they.” She giggles, watching your shaking form with delight. “I’m glad you aren’t the one the Briarwoods want, it’ll be fun to play with you.” You sob and beg, pulling weakly at your shackles before hanging your head in defeat. She spends a few more hours toying with you, breaking you apart and stitching you back together again. You give up, not fighting anymore, letting yourself absorb the blows.

     You begin to drift, spots filling your vision. You can’t feel the blows anymore. You should have been stronger, but there wasn’t a point anymore. You were interrupted by a small sound. No. Quite a large sound. Bellowing? It was strange and unfamiliar. Shattering glass, splintering wood, shouts, clanging of metal on metal. Maybe you were dead, down in hell listening to the other sufferers of fate. But then, familiar sufferers. Almost… painfully familiar. Yelling, a roar. Grog? Is that… Scanlan’s shawm? You crack open your eyes and whimper at the shift in movement. Screaming, shouting. Silence.

     Your vision fades. No, wait. It’s getting dark. Quickly. Smoke fills your vision and you feel your chains broken, your body lifting in strong arms and shakey voices drifting past your ears. Something fiddles with your wrists, but stops when you yell in pain, lashing out and striking something. You’re moving. You fade again, this time for real.

* * *

     Swirling mist enveloped your senses. There was light, but it was behind the smoke. A voice was whispering in one ear, one roaring in the other. The whispers spoke of vengeance, redemption, revenge against your enemies. The roaring voice was not one, but many. You could hear Vex and Vax arguing and shouting, one of Scanlan’s songs, Grog roaring alongside with Trinket, Keyleth casting spell after spell, Percy’s pepperbox and final words of anger, and the voice of Pelor above the cacauphony of voices.

     “Follower. Come back from the darkness. Breath in the light under the ever-warm sun. Come back. I am not in need of you yet.”

     Darkness.

     Light.

      _Ouch_.

     You crack open your eyes, pain simmering under the surface of your skin. You can hear faint murmurs of voices, feel fluttering hands over your wounds. You shift and groan. A hand pushes down on your chest, hushing softly.

     “Don’t try and get up yet.” A low bass voice says.

     “Grog?” You whisper.

     “Yeah. The rest of us is here too. We can’t, uh…” he clears his throat and sniffs, “those bracelets need to come off but you need to let us do it.”

     “Let you?” You croak.

     “Yes darling. You seemed a bit…defensive…when we found you. We haven’t been able to safely get them off you yet.” Vex’ahlia said to your left. You open your eyes more, eyes adjusting to the low light, to make eye contact with Vax’ildan and Scanlan, both sporting injuries, Scanlan with a black eye and Vax nursing his jaw. You blush sheepishly and hold out your wrists. Vax steps forward with a grimace, fiddling with the lock on the cuffs before opening them with a click. As soon as the metal left your skin, you gasped, feeling your connection blossom again. Warmth overtakes the cold and you moan softly in relief.

     Keyleth rushes up, supporting your head and passing a healing word through you, and you feel your wounds begin to close. You breathe out slowly, sitting up with the help of Vex’ahlia and Keyleth.

     “Who was that.” You whisper. The party collectively swallows and glances towards each other.

     “Doctor. Anna. Ripley.” A low voice mutters from the corner of the room. “At least, it _was_ her. I think she might have made us a matching set.”

     You look to the corner, and, obscured by shadows and smoke sits Percy, holding up his hand, which you can see now has small scars between each of the fingers. You look down, and similar marks adorn yours, albeit fresher. You swallow and nod, getting up on shaky legs and pulling him up into an embrace.

     “I’m so sorry you had to meet her again.” You whisper lowly, burying your face in his chest. His hands don’t reach back up at first, the smoke swirling and receding slowly as he seems confused before slowly hugging you back. You relax into him, breathing in the scent of gunpowder, metal, and leather. You release him, a sad smile on your face.

     “Did you…” you look at the bump of the gun in his coat and back up to him, throat dry. He pulls out the gun and shows you the now clear barrel.

     “Two gone.” He murmurs. You nod, understanding, and turn to the party.

     “I’m sorry to have worried you. I should have gone with one of you, and I apologise.”

     “Of course you should have, no-one should go-“ Scanlan and Vax begin before getting twin smacks from Vex and Grog.

     “It’s alright. Be more careful next time.” Vex says with a worried smile. You nod and go out of the quiet room, finding yourself leaving the room you had taken Percy the other day. You wander up the stairs, finding an old and slightly rotted but still sturdy and comfortable bed. Sitting on it and picking at your armor, you start taking it off and praying to Pelor before laying down. You stare at the ceiling, basking in the familiar-again warmth of your faith. You hear soft footsteps in the hall and sit up, pulling your legs up to your chest. Percy silently walks in the room, closing the creaking door and sitting on the bed next to you.

     “Percival?” You say softly. He looks up at you then down again, seemingly searching for words. “It’s okay, Percy.”

     He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, pinching away a small headache. You don’t wait for him to speak, but lay your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him.


	5. Developments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin to act on your feelings, but duty calls, and you rush to take back Whitestone.

     You sit for a while, breathing in and out in the silence before feeling him shift. You feel his breath fanning across your forehead before a sigh exits his mouth.

     “I… I’m sorry for dragging you into this. It wasn’t fair of me, and you’ve suffered because of it.” He murmurs, his words heavy. You sit up, a confused look on your face.

     “You haven’t forced me into anything, Percy. I knew the risks of rebellion when I offered to help. All of you did, too.”

     “I should have stayed with you, I knew she could have been out there and I didn’t warn you!” He pleads, getting up and pacing.

     “I’m not a child, Percy! I know the risks. Yes, you should have told us but mistakes happen! By Pelor, I know I’ve made mistakes, and you and your group most certainly have! We’re imperfect, that’s what makes us people!” You say, raising your voice and stepping towards him. “No-one’s perfect, Percy!”

     “You think I don’t know that!” He shouts, turning towards you. You can see smoke beginning to filter out of his coat slowly, his nostrils flaring. His glasses flash in the dim room. You swallow and stand strong, even if your hands trembled.

     “I am a monster, girl, you’ve seen it. I am what fucking hides under the bed for god’s sake! Smoke and shadow and anger, all balled up into one. I cannot control it, I couldn’t, I was lost, I’m only now-“ he says before stopping. He swallows, realising he had backed you against the wall, panting in anger. He pulls away and you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

     “Percival.” You say softly.

     “No, listen, you can’t-“

     “Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III! Listen to me or I swear by Pelor I will smack you.” He coughed and backed down, in shock. You smooth out your shirt to hide your trembling hands. “Now. I’ll say my piece and you can do what you want with it.” Clearing your throat, you begin.

     “I remember the De Rolo family well. I used to work in the castle when I was younger, scrubbing the big pots in the kitchen and helping with the animals. When they… fell, I became a cleric to help the people in town. Never once did I waver from it. I helped good people, I helped bad people, and all people in between. That’s because almost everyone deserves mercy, light, and strength. The Briarwoods are some of the few who do not. They’ve corrupted themselves too far. But you, Percival. You have a chance. I want to help you, and so do your people. You aren’t alone. You may not be the most good person here, but that doesn’t matter. I still lo-“ You stop, blushing and looking away.

     His eyebrows shoot up as he coughs. His eyes look down, confusion riddling his face before he returns your gaze with shyness.He reaches out slowly to your cheek, hand trembling without making contact. You look into his eyes, turmoil and questioning swirling in them like dark pools. Your hand cups his, nuzzling it into your cheek before kissing the palm gently. He sucks in a quick breath, eyes never swaying from yours. He moves closer, moving his hand to the back of your head and leaning down until his lips are barely touching yours. You whimper almost silently and he surges forward, kissing you.

     His lips are smooth but slightly chapped, constant sighing and coughing drying them out. He’s tentative, but passionate, moving his other hand to your waist to pull you close. You moan softly against his mouth, putting your hands on his chest gently. You hear a faint crackling and he pulls away with a soft groan, answering the earpiece.

     “I’ll be right down. We go now or we can’t go at all.” He rubs his earring.

     You pant softly, blushing and brushing your hair behind your ears.

     “I’m sorry I have to stop, dear, but word got out that we were here and the villagers are fighting for us. The giants are attacking.” He says in a rush, picking up his gun you hadn’t noticed him drop and rushing to the door. You nod and follow before stopping him in the hallway, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him once more for good measure, dashing away as quick as you came, giggles fluttering in your wake.

     Meeting up with the others you get your earpiece back (thank god for quick thinking) and head out, passing yelling people with makeshift weapons and clerics praying over wounded. You send a passing prayer along, running with the others and eventually splitting up, fighting undead stone giants. You managed to get a few hits in, doing a small bit of damage, but mostly helping others up, passing out what spells you could afford, bandaging up wounds you couldn’t fix.

     After what seemed like an eternity, the giant fell. You breathe out, adjusting your staff and turning towards the group. They weren’t there. You look towards the dead Sun Tree, seeing Keyleth shouting and pointing towards an approaching army of skeletal monstrosities. A chill runs up your spine and you start running towards them, in time to catch up with them running towards a wall just outside of town. You stop running as Keeper Yennan gestures towards a light emanating from the crowd. Standing in glory was an angel. A small one, but no doubt a heavenly being, glory spilling from its body as it carves a path through the tides of bone.

     “Pike!” You hear the others say. Pike? Pike! You had heard them speak of the gnome cleric, but they had failed to mention she was celestial. She was powerful, more powerful than you could ever hope to be, powerful enough to make you consider your pick of gods. After she absolutely destroyed many of the skeletons, she turns and smiles at you.

     “Good to see another woman of faith. Who do you serve?” She says, taking your hand.

     “Pelor, miss Pike. I was told of your greatness, but not that you were such a holy being.” You bow slightly. You look down at her as she starts to laugh, the sound like little bells.

     “I appreciate the compliment, but I am no holy being. I serve Serenrae, and she has helped me make this form so I could help you in this trying time.” You realize then that her form is fuzzy, and yet slightly physical. You blush sheepishly, scratching your head as she meets up with the others.

     You see Scanlan trying to impress her with tales of turning into a large beast you’d never heard of, and you giggle, shaking your head. Gnomes. You feel a hand on your shoulder and you turn to see Percy, smokey but mostly still himself, you embrace him, checking for injuries quietly.

     “I’m alright, just… nervous. We’re striking the Briarwoods and… I’ve dreamed of this day and now I don’t know what to expect.” He murmurs. You nod and take his hand to squeeze it gently, going back to the group. You all made your way slowly towards a hidden entrance Percy had originaly escaped from, a cavern in the woods. Finding it, you settle down for the night, stretching over the cold dirt and rocks. However, you feel a presence behind you and warmth on your back. You shift and see Percy lying, eyes closed, behind you, hand on your side. You feel a dusty blush on your cheeks and settle into him, pulling your thin blanket over both of you quietly.


	6. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally act on your feelings for Percival in the tunnel to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I was in a theatre production and didn’t have the time to finish when I wanted to. Hope you enjoy!

     You wake in the middle of the night, your body restless and jittery. Sitting up carefully, you make your way further down the tunnel, curious. You end up at the end without trouble, much to your relief. You sit by the stone wall, pulling out your book and a small candle. You read for a while, the silence riding the line between comfortable and unnerving, but never quite tipping to either side. Quiet footsteps meet your ears, and looking up you see the creeping figure of Percy approaching. He yawns and coughs quietly, sitting across from you.

     “Why are you up, Percy?” You whisper, trying not to wake the others at the other end of the tunnel.

     “I could ask you the same. I was worried.” You blushed and shrugged. You set down your book and looked at him, taking in the small dark circles from the restless sleep he tends to have. Sighing, you looked down the tunnel, murmuring and shifting until your spell was complete. The end of the tunnel you two were in was now completely silent save the noises you two made.

     “I don’t want to wake the others with our talk. We have less sleep than we need as it is.” You say, not whispering any more. Percy smiles and grunts.

     “How thoughtful. You’re too nice for your own good.” You smile and chuckle, thanking him. “I- I want to thank you for this.” He says, pulling out the small symbol you gave him. You nodded curiously, looking at his face, noticing his neck and ears were more pink than normal, standing out against his paleness. You poke him with your toe.

     “You already did, Percy.” You murmur. Shuffling next to him, you lean on his shoulder. “You don’t need to thank me again.” His breath comes out in a small huff, moving over your face. He turns the symbol over in his hands, fingers brushing the crude carving before pocketing it once more. He turns and you look up, face inches from his as he stares at you.

     “You really are marvellous, you know that?” He whispers, tucking stray hair behind your ear. Your ear flushed to match his. “Most people would have run, or worse, killed me, the moment they saw the shadows creeping, but you… your… light, it’s almost blinding in its radiance.” He stares into your eyes while you bite the inside of your cheek, blushing harder.

     You look down at his lips and back up, swallowing before leaning in, pressing your lips against his softly. He makes a soft strangled sound, reaching up with a hand to caress your cheek as he pressed harder. You wriggle away until you’re on his lap, kissing him still. He pulls your hips closer to him, licking against your bottom lip in question. You open up shyly, moving against him and running your hands up his arms. He pulls away, flushed and lips kiss-swollen before smiling warmly.

     “So beautiful.” He kisses down your jaw, your eyes closing. “How did I get to be so lucky.”

     “I could say the same to you.” You giggle, mimicking his words from earlier. He chuckles, pinching your side and laying you down. Your chest constricted as he kissed over your neck again, fingers gently fluttering up your stomach.

     “May I?” He murmurs in your ear, tugging on the tie to your shirt. You whimper softly and nod, tugging off your various belts and cloth before you lay bare from the waist up. Percy was entranced, mouth moving across your collarbone and down before tugging gently at your breasts. You moan, pressing up into his mouth and shifting beneath him. His smirk grazed your skin, stubble chafing gently down your stomach. He looks up at you and you nod, helping him pull down your pants. He groans and kisses your stomach once more, looking into your eyes as he slowly cups your mound. His finger gently slides through your folds, his eyes looking at yours full of surprised awe when he finds wetness gathering.

     You keen softly and close your eyes. He chuckles under his breath and slowly pushes one finger inside you, swirling your clit with his thumb. You bite your lip, clenching around him just to hear his groan, crooking his finger and kissing up to your chest.

     “Please, Percy.” You pant softly, opening your eyes.

     “Yes?” He said coyly, pushing a second finger in and watching you squirm. You groan and whimper.

     “Please, Percy, I need you,” said your soft whines. He chuckles darkly, scissoring his fingers and grinding down on your thigh.

     “Although that sounds lovely, darling, I need a bit more than that.” He purrs into your ear. You whine and pant, your fingers scrabbling at the earthen floor.

     “Please Percy, I need you, gods, I’ve needed you for days, Pelor help me.” You breathe out, words tumbling over themselves out from your mouth. Percy groans softly and smirks, adding a third finger and crooking just so, causing you to keen and squeeze your eyes shut.

     “I’m honored, but what exactly do you need?” He chuckles, playful ignorance prancing in his tone. You glare down at him.

     “Percival, I swear I will end you if you do not get your cock inside me.” You say with much more bravado than you thought you could muster. Percy laughs and leans back, sucking on his fingers and moaning quietly as he undoes his pants without taking them off. You whimper and tug on them, but he stiffens and shakes his head. You swallow and nod, relenting and making a mental note to ask later. He swipes his stiff member against your wetness, pulling you out of your head with a moan before sinking in slowly. Your breath catches, hands flying up to his shirt to grip before moans slowly leak from you. He smiles and thrusts gently, another inch moving into your channel.

     “Gods, you feel good.” He murmurs reverently. You laugh breathlessly and pull him close, moving with him and kissing his neck and jaw. Percy starts to speed up, leaning down to suck on your pulse point, littering your collarbone and neck with various red and purple marks, already fading slightly. You moan and bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes.

     His hair is wild, sticking slightly to his forehead as his pale skin had turned pink in the landslide of emotions he had been feeling. He brushes your hair from your face, kissing up to your mouth.

     “You. Are. Gorgeous.” He says, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. You whimper, blush deepening as you feel your arousal begin to approach the summit. You clench around him and he reaches down, rolling your clit between his calloused fingers. You cry out, panting as you begin to crest, scratching your fingers down his clothed chest in desperation.

     “Give yourself to me.” He whispers, biting your neck. In that moment, you feel warmth flood your veins and pulses of pleasure licking up from your stomach, sending jolts through you as you shake slightly. Percy’s thrusts stutter and stop, another source of warmth flooding into your stomach. You shiver and pant, kissing his neck.

     “Thank you, Percy.” You breathe out. He chuckles and pulls out of you, wiping himself with a spare rag and doing the same to you before helping you dress. You curl into his lap, nuzzling his chest and smiling. You glance down the hallway and back up at Percy. “I should probably stop the spell in case the others are calling for us.” He makes a low sound in his chest, closing his eyes.

     “Let it run out. They can come get us if need be. Besides, our light can show them the way.” He smiles down at you. You nod and yawn, cuddling back into his warmth. You fall asleep once more, your candle casting shadows on the walls as you dream about leather and gunsmoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends the reading! If you want more of this story or of the same kind of thing, comment below! I’d love to hear your thoughts! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡


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